The Day After Hell by Cardinal Robbins
by Cardinal Robbins
Summary: John Munch helps works to prevent a colleague's suicide. Can he stop her in time?


**The Day After Hell**

By Cardinal Robbins

"_You're **obsessed** with September 11th, and I have no idea why you can't get past it,"_ she snapped, as Zelman got out of the car. _"It's all you think about anymore!"_

"Then maybe I should take a salt-shaker to my Glock and you won't have to worry about it," she retorted. "Thanks for the ride, Sis – John will bring me home," Sarah said evenly, as she slammed the car door. I'd heard the exchange as she got out, but never realized her sister's voice could hold such venom.

_Five years later and she still doesn't get it._ Sarah almost bumped into me, as I came up close to her. "You okay? That sounded pretty heated back there."

"Fine. Everything's fine," she said, in that tone of voice that meant it was anything but.

We walked in together, in silence, which wasn't her way. She didn't meet anyone's eyes, I noticed, nor did she give her usual mega-watt smile and say hello to the unies that greeted her. Instead, a sharp nod of her head to those who wished her good morning. It made me wonder if she was still at Ground Zero; the moodiness had been going on for a few days now. It wasn't PMS, because I knew her calendar almost by heart.

She grabbed a cup of sludge, didn't add her usual sweetener and cream, but just sat down at Fin's desk and started catching up on D-D5's. She'd dropped a small brown paper bag on my desk – breakfast – and glanced over as I delved into it. _Chocolate milk and potato chips._ "You remembered," I said, lowering my head and smiling.

"Yeah," she said, "figured you were too busy for anything this morning." It worried me she hadn't smiled back. When no one else could get a smile out of her, it usually wasn't a challenge for me to get her back in the game.

It always amazed me how she knew when I'd left the house without so much as a piece of toast. Those nights when we slept together, she'd rise an hour early and make breakfast – eggs, the turkey 'bacon' that she preferred to the kosher beef version, toasted bagels and cream cheese. She'd brew tea for me and make coffee for herself, and my apartment smelled like home. We'd share the newspaper while the TV gave the local run-down in the background. When she stayed alone on occasional nights at her place, I longed for the scent of both her and her cooking.

Fin was off for a few days, trying to make up for a lifetime of not knowing his son. They'd decided a cabin upstate would be a good place to camp and clear the air. He wanted to know the young man, and I almost envied him having procreated – even with the ensuing problems his career had caused between them.

The early part of the morning passed in uncharacteristic silence, Sarah at Fin's desk in front of me. Her head stayed down over the computer. Finally, she looked up at me and asked, "Can I put my ordnance in your gun safe for a few days?"

The simple request confused and alarmed me, but I didn't let on. "Going somewhere?" She hadn't mentioned anything to me about being gone, especially with Fin out and Benson working on a case with Stabler that kept them mostly out of the house.

"No, I just need my guns out of the house," she said flatly.

She looked up as I leaned back and turned my head a bit to really see her for the first time that day. "Something you want to tell me?" I kept my voice low and soft, in counterpoint to the exchange she'd suffered through earlier. She was my partner for the moment and suddenly it hit me just how much she was hurting inside. It felt like a perp had just kicked me in the chest.

"No biggie, John," she lied, "I just don't want my guns around right now."

"What about your carry?" She saw me nod to her Glock nine-mill and she shrugged. "I'm handing it over to Cragen at end-of-shift. He can keep it in his safe for me, until tomorrow morning."

Before I could keep it to myself, I'd let out a long judgmental sigh. "C'mon with me."

"No. I'll handle this myself, Munch."

"Let me in, Sarah…" I pleaded. "Don't go where I can't follow…please. I can help you."

She sighed, a long ragged breath that told me she'd been fighting hard with her demons. I spilled my guts about my days in Balto, when a homicide cop named Crosetti took a pharmacy full of antidepressants and anti-anxiety drugs and took a fatal swim in the harbor. She saw the hurt and desperation in my eyes and I had her in the moment again. "Let's go chat with Cragen, please?" She stood. The first good sign of the day.

My hopes plummeted as she sat back down. "If you want to clue him in, I won't fault you for it. But I can't face him yet," she said, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"He needs to know," I said, trying to reason with her. "If I let him know, will you talk?"

"Yeah," she admitted, defeated. "I'll do whatever he wants me to – the company shrink or Dr. Huang. I think maybe a session with George would be better. If the company shrinker knows I've thought about eating my Glock, it'll make it straight into my jacket and poison my career."

"That's not true," I corrected her. "Or no one would be left in the NYPD." _She was thinking about putting her gun in her mouth and pulling the trigger. And she hadn't even told me until now. How long had she been living with this?_

"Why didn't you tell me about this, babe?" I'd dropped my voice to a whisper.

"Because of your father…because I didn't want you to spend a lifetime feeling guilty about someone else who took the coward's way out." She looked me in the eye for the first time that day, and I could tell she'd cried during her latest trip to the ladies' room. "Because I have a pact with God, John… As a Jew, I don't know what He'd do to me, but I can't break my promise to Him and destroy myself. I…just don't trust myself around my guns right now. What if -- ?" She put her head back down and a tear escaped.

"What if it spirals completely beyond your control?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. That was the answer she couldn't tell me. She shook her head and cried, her head down, her hands trembled as she held tight to the coffee mug. Cragen had come out of his office and had been watching. He motioned me into his office, and I didn't want to leave Sarah but had no choice.

"John," Cragen said. "What's up? It's been pretty quiet in your corner. Lovers' quarrel?"

I sat down heavily, feeling like the weight of the world had settled on my slumped shoulders. "No, no lovers' quarrel, nothing like that," I admitted slowly. "I can't reach her today, Cap, She's somewhere inaccessible. She's gone into her head and I can't follow her there."

"Meaning?" Cragen looked confused, but was trying to understand.

"I've seen the look on her face before…on the face of a cop in homicide, in Balto. He offed himself. His name was Crosetti and he O.D.'d on a veritable drugstore and later they fished him out of the harbor.

"She say anything to that effect?" Don was suddenly sitting forward in his seat, his hands flat against his desk. His eyes widened. Usually by the time a cop got vocal, it was too late.

"A smart-ass comment to her sister, when they were arguing this morning. Aside from that, not much, except that she wants all her guns in my safe and she wants her carry piece in yours tonight," I explained. "She broke and let it slip that she wanted to turn over her ordnance to me. To you, too."

"How should we handle this, John? I need to know. If she's making provisions for her ordnance, she's thinking about eating her Glock." We both knew he was right. With Crosetti, it had been different, but Zelman… Don knew how I felt. We were in deep, Sarah and myself.

"That's what worries me. She was also having a hard time with her sister this morning, which couldn't have helped." My head was starting to throb. I wanted to go home and take Sarah with me, to get her away from anything having the power to stop a perp – or take her own life.

He put his hand on the phone "Dr. Huang?"

We shared a deep sigh. "Can't think of anyone else," I admitted. "I think it's PTSD; she's been sneaking off to the ladies' room a lot and when she comes back her eyes are red, and she sniffling."

"Any idea what set her off, aside from the obvious yesterday?

"Some comment her sister made this morning as she dropped her off, then Sarah made that comment about eating her Glock," he explained. "She swore to me she wouldn't follow through, but she's afraid she might lose it and neither you nor I want to go there/."

"Huang needs to know," Don said. "I'll call now. He'll be here soon, I'm sure."

"Thanks, Cap. Her face is so pale, it worries me… Her sister said she was 'obsessed' with nine-eleven, but she's not. But Sarah made a comment to me about not being able to share anything with her anymore, without getting her ass chewed."

"Family. They just don't get it. No wonder she's been silent, if her sister's been judging her like that. It's probably pushed her over the edge…"

"Cap, what if she _is_ thinking about it? I need to get her ordnance away from her. The quicker, the better."

"Call her in, sit next to her," he said softly. "You can even hold her hand if you want to, but I'm taking her gun. And instructing her to give any guns she has at home to you, for safekeeping in your gun locker. _Now_. On your lunch break."

"Thanks, Don," I said, relieved. I slowly opened the door and went over to her. "Sarah?"

She was still staring at the computer screen, but wasn't typing.

"Sarah?"

She broke from the past that had such a magnetic hold on her. "Yes, John?"

"Cap needs to see us."

"He mad at me?" She looked up, numb, her expression almost completely blank.

"Nothing like that," I assured her. "He only wants to talk." I got her up out of her chair and led her toward Cragen's office, showed her inside and closed the door. "Have a seat," I said, taking the chair next to hers.

"Cap? I'd been wanting to ask you something. What's up?"

"Been worried about you, Sarah," he began carefully. "You haven't been your usual sparkling self today, and I'd like you to put your gun on my desk, please."

"You _what_? Right now?" she asked hotly. "If we have to leave, I have to be able to protect my partner, and -- "

"Your comment about eating your Glock, Sarah," Cragen explained. "We can't take the chance it _was_ a flippant remark and leave it at that."

She let out a long breath, then took off her gun belt and gave it over to Cragen. "It…wasn't flippant." She looked from one to the other of them. "So, now what happens? I kiss my job goodbye?"

"No, Sarah," Don said softly. "I called Dr. Huang and he'll be here soon. You'll spend some sessions with him – with pay, this is _not_ a suspension – until he's sure you're all right once more."

She sat in silence, thinking it over carefully. "Okay," she said numbly. "What about John? He needs a partner." She looked at me and I stood, walking over and massaging her shoulders. They felt like granite, she was so tense.

"I'll work desk duty for a couple days," I volunteered, then reached down and gave her hand a squeeze. "No problem."

"Cap? That right?"

"Yes, that'll work out fine. You can work desk duty with John, no problem with me on that, as long as you make all your appointments."

"Then I'll take those sessions with George Huang," she said quietly. "Until he's here, I'll take care of paperwork." She stood slowly; she seemed like a shell of what she used to be.

"John's heading to your place, to round up your guns and put them in his safe," Don said, trying to make it sound less like punishment than it seemed. "Anything he needs to know when he gets to your place?" he asked softly.

"They're all laid out on my bed," she admitted. She stood and wanted so badly to be strong again. "John, change your combination, too," she added. I heard her voice choke and couldn't stand it anymore, I moved around and embraced her in a hug and held her for a moment. I knew Don wouldn't say anything; my secrets were always safe with him. "I'll change it back when Huang gives me permission." She nodded, her head still against my chest.

"C'mon, Sarah," Cragen said, "I'll buy you some lunch, while we wait for Dr. Huang." He knew that would give me the out I needed, to get her guns safely out of her reach.

"I'm really not hungry, Cap," she said.

"It wasn't a request, it was an order," he compelled her. "C'mon, it's going to be okay, Zelman."

Slowly, I released her, knowing I'd be with her tonight, holding her once more. But at least Don Cragen was right…it would be okay.

_This time._


End file.
